


Rain

by skuldchan



Category: Samurai Champloo
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-30
Updated: 2011-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:53:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skuldchan/pseuds/skuldchan





	Rain

Rain. Drops of water streak my glasses and thunderclaps shake the sky as I make my way through the meadow, searching left and right through tall, wild grasses for that tuft of dark, unruly hair. Heavy drops of rain fall onto my head and drip down the nape of my neck, soaking my clothes, soaking my skin. The horizon, the sky is dark, blanketed by grey clouds that hardly seem to move, releasing water without intention of stopping. The scene before me is dim, my vision obscured by the distortion of the droplets settling on glass . I squint and continue walking, running, seeking.

I'm cold and wet, and it reminds of the time I stood outside of a brothel in a rain not so different from this, staring at a woman I thought I'd grown to love, aching for the feel of her body in my arms. She was sweet, gentle, tragic, and so soft when I felt her skin beside mine, and I pressed myself against her. She was so kind, so resigned. I would have given anything to keep her.

We parted ways on a day of clean, damp mist.

Rain. Lightning flashes and I think I see a shadow, a void in the foliage of the ground lying spreadeagled before me. Lightning flashes, illuminating a brief glimpse of red and sun-bronzed skin. There's no mistaking that figure, that unfortunate collection of stick-like limbs topped with a mop of disheveled hair. My stomach launches into my throat and my pulse begins to race--maybe he's dead. Maybe we're still being followed by the Shogunate, maybe they have an assassin more skilled that that poor blind woman, Sara. I almost turn around back to the barn where Fuu is staying for the night, there's only half a chance that she'll still be there, curled up in sleep in a bale of hay. I shake off the dread, school my mind, and my slow body to serenity as I walk--stately, quietly--to where I can see him better, recumbent in the grass, his face turned toward the heavens, his eyes open.

He hears my approach and he speaks to me, to the clouds overhead, to nobody and nothing in particular. He blinks once, twice.

"I hate the rain."

Grass and mud squelches beneath my knees as I sit beside him, close enough to hear his words, distant enough to be ignored if he pleases. "So do I," I say, casting my gaze to the horizon. I don't need to ask to know that he's thinking of Sara.

He wanted her all to himself from the beginning. He wanted to be the one to best her, to beat her on her own ground with her own rules. He wanted to wash her blood off his sword in the rain, because he'd found an opening in her defense. He wanted to fight to the death and be the one left standing. And for all that, all he got in the end was a broken and blind woman, who had handed him his victory, and left him with nothing but her tears and her words that he struggled to understand.

Rain. Two women who had shaken us. Two women whom we once met in the rain.

I open my eyes only to realize they were closed, that I'm soaked through and dripping, that I'm shivering and cold, that Mugen's stopped staring at nothing and is instead staring right through me.

"C'mere," he says suddenly, and a lanky arm shoots up to cup the back of my neck and bring me down.

I let him kiss me, I let myself kiss back. I let him run warm lips over my chest, I let his fingers play around the cloth at my waist, I help him peel my clothes from my shoulders. He tries to keep me warm because I'm cold and naked, because he can see the goosebumps all over my pale skin, but his skin is just as wet and slick as mine. Mugen is as cold and naked as I am, lying in the grass, his pants pushed down to his knees. We're both just as soaked at the other.

I move to straddle his hips, stepping out of my hakama. I sink myself down slowly, my hand guiding him inside, my eyes watching him intently. He averts his eyes from my gaze, to stare at the hands he's resting on my hips, firm fingers gripping me as I stop and settle. He sits up and we wrap our arms around each other, maybe because we simply need to be held, or maybe because we need to hold, so he can buck his hips properly against me and I can push properly against him. I can't tell, I never could.

I ride him while the rain keeps falling all around me, the sound of water pounding the meadow grass intensifies in my mind. I lose the sensation of the rain dripping from the ends of my hair and onto my back, I lose the feeling of rivulets of water carving their way down my chest, and I all I feel is the warmth beneath me, the fire of Mugen's hands on my cold skin, jerking me with every push and thrust.

I hear his rough voice telling me I'm sexy with my hair wet, with my skin pale against the dark, stormy skies. I see him grinning at me, and I tell him to shut up.

I pray for the rain never to stop.

It's long time before Mugen bites my shoulder, before I bury myself in his hair, our fingers bruising each other's skin--his gripping my hips with ferocity, mine clawing at his back. We collapse in the grasses, and the storm keeps pounding down. We shiver together, a tangle of limbs, no warmth to be had between us. He reaches a hand up to takes my glasses off, tossing them off somewhere behind him. I glare at him and make a mental note not to let him put any of his clothes back on until he's found them again. He looks at me, like he's about to say something, but then thinks better of it. He sinks back into the grass, one arm around my waist, the other behind his head, and closes his eyes.

The rain lifts eventually, slowing to a drizzle and then fading completely. Together, we shiver, and gather our clothes.

We've lied to each other today. Actually, we both love the rain.


End file.
